


Safe at Sunrise

by Eerily



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-21
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:18:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5664211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eerily/pseuds/Eerily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the day all those little things he didn't have anymore didn't matter. They didn't matter, because there was only one important thing that he absolutely could not live without, and he was carrying it in a bundle on his back. Somewhere underneath that cocoon of jackets and cloth was a boy. A boy named Tweek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe at Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in November 2012. I'm relocating my old stuff to AO3, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes.  
> Oneshot theme: Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift and The Civil Wars

It was chilly that November night, and the bitter cold reminded Craig of when they'd lived in Colorado. Yet, there were no toasty wooden fireplaces, or even cheap electric heaters, to warm themselves by like there once was in their cozy home town of South Park. Those sorts of luxuries were lost long ago, along with everything else he'd mistakenly taken for granted. Never in his life did he think he'd miss that hick town so much. When he was younger he always used to talk big with his friends about leaving that place and never going back, but now all he longed for was just one more day there. One more day surrounded by contentment and normality. However, it was only wishful thinking, a pipe dream.

He knew they could never go back.

His shoe lace got caught under a piece of ice, knocking him off balance and nearly sending himself and the precious cargo on his back tumbling into the frigid snow. Without a sound besides the faint crunching of ice he stabilized himself, and slowly he trudged on in hopes of finding an abandoned place to hunker down in.

A place where Tweek can finally rest and he can get this all over with.

The landscape reminded him a lot of his home with all its tall pines and high, rolling hills. Thick white puffs fluttered downward from the dark night sky as well, coating everything in a thick blanket of snow. Yes, it looked a lot like home, but he wasn't even sure what state they were in anymore. He supposed that was something that was just impossible for them to keep track of nowadays, just like passing months and one another.

Maps, calendars and walky-talkies: just a few more items on the list of stuff Craig used to take for granted but would have died for right then. Yes, going without those things made life difficult sometimes, but at the end of the day all those little things he didn't have anymore didn't matter. They didn't matter, because there was only one important thing that he absolutely could not live without, and he was carrying it in a bundle on his back.

Somewhere underneath that cocoon of jackets and cloth was a boy.

A boy named Tweek.

His hair was blond and messy, and his eyes were a dull shade of green. Craig could still vaguely remember he loved to drink coffee before they left home. His favorite creamer was flavored French vanilla, and he liked to sip his early morning brew from a multicolored thermos.

Okay, so maybe he more than _vaguely_ remembered.

"Did we make it yet, Craig?" a small and muffled voice asked feebly from his back.

It sounded so ill, so frail.

Craig wanted to assure his companion that they'd find some place soon, somewhere they would be warm and safe until it was time, but he was too worn to reply. His legs were sore and his face was cold; his arms were shaking and his fingers were beginning to go numb. He had to find a place to stop, or else he'd soon be too exhausted to carry Tweek to safety.

They happened upon a town amidst the falling snow, and Craig quickly decided upon one of the suburban homes. Sneaking up to the back of the house with Tweek in tow, Craig scanned the darkness for any signs of life. He'd hoped this place was as abandoned as it seemed, because he was going to get in one way or another.

He bumped his bundle up a little higher on his back before reaching out and grabbing the handle of the back door. Surprisingly, it turned smoothly before creeping open.

He found himself in a kitchen, and although it was horribly eerie it was much better than being out there in the freezing cold. Old and dreary curtains hung from closed windows, and the dark kitchen was lit only by the faint bluefish glow seeping in from outside. Craig prayed that they wouldn't run into anyone on their way through that creepy old house, and luckily whatever god was watching over him heard his plea.

A bedroom, that's all he needed. A bedroom with somewhere comfortable to lay Tweek down. While he navigated through a foreign living room he was happy to see whoever lived there last left all their belongings behind, meaning it was likely for him to come across a bed.

He ventured through the fully furnished living room, up a rather untrustworthy looking staircase, and quickly stumbled upon a quaint looking bedroom. The wallpaper reminded him of something one would see in Victorian homes- with odd floral patterns of faded colors. The room itself was small, but the bed was big. Big enough for the both of them to root under the covers and indulge in one another's body heat.

He turned around and gently lowered his bundle long ways onto the mattress, being careful not to let it fall back too hard onto the pillows. Carefully, he unwrapped it, pulling layers of cloth away from the small frame of the boy buried underneath.

"We're here, Tweek," he whispered in the shell of the boy's ear.

Hearing the familiar voice of his friend, the blond began to stir under the cloth. His heavy eyes cracked open. They were a little swollen and big black bags hung low underneath them, but he had yet to lose his vision.

"We're safe?" a small voice whimpered.

"We're safe," Craig's nasally voice murmured in confirmation before setting a pistol down on the night stand. Soon he crawled up into the bed himself, pulled a heavy comforter up over their bodies, and then scooted close so that Tweek may benefit from what little warmth was left in his body. "Do you feel any better?"

"Um... No," Tweek complained, tears beginning to bud in the corners of his green eyes. "My head hurts really bad now."

"It's okay," Craig lied as sweetly as his harsh voice could muster. "It'll feel better when the morning comes."

He used his sleeve to wipe Tweek's runny nose clean, and then pressed a soft kiss on the boy's warm forehead. He was never really one for affection. Craig, I mean. He never let his mom give him sloppy kisses or his crazy grandmother pinch his cheeks. He didn't hug his friends goodbye or pat his little sister on the back for a job well done. He never did any of those things, which was just something else he'd learned to regret.

He didn't want to regret anymore, and he didn't want to let his stoic attitude keep Tweek from knowing how much he really cared about him.

After feeling a warm pair of lips brush against his forehead Tweek smiled weakly, and stretched upwards so that he might feel it again. As he leaned up for another kiss his collar pulled down, and Craig grimaced at the puffy red wound gouged out of the base of the boy's neck. Still, he leaned down and gave Tweek what he was silently pleading for. Neither said a word about the unusual show of affection; they didn't have to. Anything they could have possibly said about it had surely been brought up already in the past year.

"Craig, everything's spinning." Tweek's small voice was slowly slipping away, only becoming quieter and weaker with every breath he took.

"Shh," Craig hushed, trying with everything he had to keep Tweek happy and comfortable despite how white his face was getting. "You don't have to worry. Nothing can hurt you anymore, you're safe here."

"I'm safe," Tweek mimicked. "I'm... getting really tired, though."

Craig allowed the frail boy to wiggle into his arms, and wrapped them snugly around his sick companion. "Then close your eyes and rest."

"Okay... Will you watch for them while I sleep?"

"Of course... I'll be right beside you..." Craig whispered hoarsely, fighting the urge to let his eyes leak.

"I know, you always are," Tweek's voice became so soft that Craig almost couldn't hear him anymore, and the poor boy was only getting more disoriented. "Don't... Don't ever leave me alone, though, okay?"

Craig felt his heart sink, and with a waver in his voice he said, "I meant it when I promised we'd always be together."

Tweek smiled. The gesture was contented and pure, completely unaware of the heart wrenching plan his most beloved friend had already set into motion.

"Now, shh," Craig coaxed softly. "Sleep... and when the sun rises this will all be over."

Tweek believed him. He trusted his friend, and he knew that he'd always be taken good care of as long as he was around. In Craig's arms is always where he felt the safest, even when they were angry and fighting with one another, even when Craig did something stupid and Tweek wanted nothing more than to smack him over the back of the head. (Which he did on more than one occasion.) It never mattered to him that they didn't have a house to live in or anyplace to go, because as long as he had Craig he would have a home. The other boy's body was always like a warm, cozy bed to him anyway, and Tweek was always safest at home in bed.

His dulling eyes soon fell closed.

For a long time Craig just laid there, his free hand rubbing Tweek's back in ginger circles as he waited patiently. He needed to be sure that his friend was asleep.

He'd never forgive himself if Tweek awoke to feel the barrel.

Soon, the steady rise and fall of the ribs under his fingers let him know his companion had fallen into a peaceful slumber. That's how Craig wanted Tweek's last few moments to be- calm, tranquil, safe and warm in the loving arms of a cherished friend. Not many got to leave the world that way back then, and Craig decided from the start that if he ever had to make the choice he would do what was best for Tweek- no matter how painful it would be.

Forcing the fragile boy to try and survive another day would only be selfish on Craig's part, and he knew that all too well.

Reaching up onto the night stand he gripped the pistol. It was funny that he could never remember it being so heavy before, but everything was starting to feel heavy to him. Even the beautiful head resting on his shoulder. Tweek's ribs continued to rise and fall in a steady rhythm as he lay snug against his friend. His face was lax and soft looking in the dim light, and although his cheeks were growing horribly pale and sickly looking he still wore a smile. This was the first time Craig had ever seen him so relaxed, and sadly, it would be the last.

He finally let his tears well up and slip down the side of his face now that Tweek wasn't awake to see him cry. His fingers slid through the boy's light colored hair, savoring the feeling for as long as he could.

Night's weary silence was soon shattered with an ear busting pop, a grotesque and horrible sound that set Tweek free.

Craig knew he had done the right thing, but that couldn't stop him from sobbing when he felt his trusting friend's frail body go limp in his arms. He felt around Tweek's torso, but his ribs were no longer rising and falling. No more air was flowing gently from his slightly parted lips, and all was still.

He swore they'd always be together, and after all the horrible pain and torment he endured all for the sake of keeping that promise, he wasn't about to break it.

He wanted the last thing Tweek felt to be him, and he wanted the last thing he felt to be Tweek.

So, with all the strength he had left, he pulled what was left of his best friend close to him. After a few moments of uncontrollable tears, and a few goodbye kisses, yet another bang pierced through the quiet.

Then, from somewhere outside their window, a walking corpse groaned.


End file.
